


In the End You're Still My Friend

by orphan_account



Series: Ryan never stopped looking [3]
Category: Bandom, Glee RPF, Hot Chelle Rae
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/467254">Stop Thinking/Never Stopped Looking</a>: Nash wakes up first and in the quiet of the day, without Ryan's eyes, he doesn't know what to think all over again.  His family is gone for the weekend, and their place only a couple/few hours away, so he goes to the farm by himself to try and clear his head.</p><p>We finally got into a bit of actual storytelling in this one.  It was three different google docs to begin with (titled Nashie's Interlude/Nash Calls Chord from Nashville/Ry's POV While Nash Figures Things the Fuck Out), but we think they fit well together for posting purposes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the End You're Still My Friend

**Author's Note:**

> We know that Nash drives a seafoam green mini-cooper instead of a truck, and that they probably would take a tour bus even as far as a couple hours away from Nashville instead of driving to the hotel where they're staying in Kentucky or Ohio or wherever, and that Zach/Jason/Cam and the rest of their management and crew would be there too somewhere, but this is fiction, people. ;)
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who is reading our silly words so far! We love feedback, and you don't have to be a member of this site to leave a comment, and anyone can click the little heart to leave us kudos if you like what we've written, and we hope you do!
> 
> The title and the lyrics quoted in this story come from the lovely Mr. Jason Mraz's _I Won't Give Up_

_When I look into your eyes  
It's like watching the night sky  
Or a beautiful sunrise  
There's so much they hold_   
  
  
  
Nash is lying on his childhood bed while Mraz plays in his ears.  The extra large headphones block out everything except for Harley snoring by his feet.  The song is on repeat - over and over and over and over - on his bright pink ipod.  It'd been a gag gift from Summer or Skye - he can't remember who.  Normally, he would look at it and laugh or at least fucking smile.  Not today.  His mind is too full of RK.  Ryno, who was his bro from day fucking one.  Ryan....who he'd kissed and touched.   His mind fills with the thought of Ryan's mouth, his hands, his arms.  
  
And then he’d rolled out of that bed he’d been in with Ryan, still sleep warm, scribbled a note and left it in the bathroom.    
  
Guys,  
  
Back later.    
  
~ NO  
  
  
He'd crawled to the farm for his meltdown.    
  
He figured it'd be okay since he wasn't standing right in front of Ryan doing it and the room above the stables that he'd commandeered when he was fifteen was the only home-home he'd ever known.  And to be fucking honest, he isn't freaking out...much.  
  
It was just fucking weird to be in the middle of something with Ryno and not even know it.  How long?  How fucking long had it been going on?  
  
The minute he’d driven through the gates, he switched his phone off and chucked it on the passenger seat and breathed deep.  And when he got to his room, he stripped down to his boxers and crawled in bed.  He slept most of the afternoon away and then raided the liquor cabinet.  Life, before, had looked better through the haze of Jack and ginger.  So, he sat on the deck with a tumbler full and Harley for company.  
  
After three shitty-tasting sips, he tossed the glass’s contents over the rail and crawled back in bed.  Turning his head into the pillow, he breathes deep and thinks of Carly McNeal, the last girl he'd had in this bed.  Waiting for his body to catch up to the thought of Carly, his heart keeps beating normal time.  
  
...And then he thinks of Ryan.  He closes his eyes and thinks of grabbing Ryan and throwing him down on the bed.  His heart picks the fuck up now.  No, he thinks, scrubbing his hands on his thighs.  No, it’d be slower...  Nash imagines his hands on Ryan's waist as they kiss and backing him towards the bed.  His heart is literally about ready to pound right out of his fucking chest.  Or of Ryan backing  him towards the bed....  
  
Things always go fuzzy after that, after thinking about that first rush.  Squeezing his eyes shut tight, he wonders about where he'd put his hands, his mouth, his body while tangled up and sweaty with RK.  Where did they fit?   Ryan ...Ryan's  eyes ...Ryan's  mouth ...Ryan's  neck bowed....  
  
Groaning, Nash rolls over knocking the phones off.  Harley huffs out his frustration.  "Yeah, yeah, sorry, old boy."  
  
Nash walks from the deck down to the first floor to get his phone out of the truck.  Grabbing it from the front seat, he takes the steps up two by two.  He crawls back in bed with Harley and powers his phone on.  Time to man the fuck up, he thinks.      
  
He waits for all of the notifications to go through their deal and before he can rethink or second-guess himself, he texts Ryan.  
  
SMS to RYNO (Nash):  Am at the farm.  Come out if you want.  P.S. Julie and Paul are gone.    
  
He lays back down and wonders for the millionth time in the past forty-eight hours what Ryan sees in him.  And why hadn’t he noticed before...  
  
He picks up the phone again.  He’s fucking balls at waiting.  And calls Chord.   
  
***  
  
Chord: heyyyy, big brother.  
  
Nash:  Hey, little brother.    
  
Chord: What’s up? Calling to thank me personally?  
  
Nash:  Um.  Well.  Harley says hi.  Don’tcha, boy?  Yeah, Harley says hi and that he misses you.  And how come you never call or write?  That’s sad, dude.  You never call Harley?  Sadtimes, Chordy.  
  
  
  
Chord: Uh, Nash? Why are you with HARLEY instead of RYAN? Are you in fucking Nashville?  
  
Nash:  Julie and Paul are gone this weekend and I thought I should check on the dogs.  Make sure they’re okay and shit.    
  
Chord: Is Ry with you?  
  
Nash:  Is Amber with you?  
  
Chord: Yes. She says hi, and also, WHY AREN’T YOU WITH RYAN RIGHT NOW?  
  
Nash:  Oh.  Tell her I said hi.  She’s such a nice girl.  Too good for you obviously, cowpoke.    
  
Chord: NASHVEGAS. What’re you doing, dude?  
  
Nash: ….I don’t know.  
  
Chord: Oh, good. That’s a huge fucking relief, you don’t know. Does Ryan know where you are?  
  
Nash:  He does now.  I uh....just texted him.    
  
Chord: Nashie. What happened? Why’d you freak?  
  
Nash:   Fuck .  Are you in the room with Amber still?  
  
Chord: Nah, I’m out on the balcony. What’s goin’ on, bro?  
  
Nash:  Chordy, if I knew I’d tell you.  Seriously, dude.  Talk about having a fucking sexual identity crisis.  Fuck me.  I don’t know.  I’m looking at Ryan and just...looking and I don’t know.  *pauses to breathe and calm down*  I didn’t know.  How did I not fucking know? How?  
  
Chord: Calm down, dude. You’re okay. Ryan knows you, bless his goddamn heart, and he’ll go on taking care of you like always, but you need to get your shit together before he gets there. I get the needing to get away part. *looks through the filmy curtains at Amber in the kitchen* And you helped me figure out a lot of what was going on with me and Ambs, so I’m gonna help you now. And I’ll do my best to not give you too much shit about it. I thought you were just gonna be chill about everything and go with how you felt. Is the label thing still bugging you?  
  
Nash:  I’m sitting here listening to Jason Mraz in the dark in my bed with a dog,  Chord .  I’ve moved past the point of labels.  I mean if I were labeling this little fucking scene it would be pathetic and sad.  And fuck, I don’t know.  Yeah, freaking out again.  It’s not the Ryan thing, I don’t think.  I mean it is and it isn’t.  Fuck.  This blows.  
  
Chord: What’s pathetic? Harley and I resent that, and Mraz is awesome. You just hate being all twisted up over  anyone , and especially Ry. I don’t actually know what went down last night, and for the record, I don’t EVER want deets, but from what both of you texted then, everything was shitting rainbows. Why don’t you go back to however you were feeling when things were great. Think about what made you decide to take that path, besides my super advice, that is. Think about Ryan and not about the physical stuff. Because I know both of you, and I know there are feelings there, whether that fucks you up in the head or not. Just do NOT be a dick to Ry.  
  
Nash:  Answer me this, Chord:  You ever lay beside Amber in the middle of the night and wonder what the fuck you’re doing there?  Doubtful.  I just don’t fucking get it.  Part of me, fucking deep down - and if you ever fucking repeat this, I will end you - doesn’t get what Ryan’s looking at.    
  
Chord: Dude, I have never heard you like this. You never wondered before why anyone liked you, not since you were like 18 anyway. Why don’t you tell me what you see when you look at Ry.  
  
Nash:  Oh fuck, we’re going down this route?  Fine.  Fuck.  Fine.  *closes eyes*  *sighs*  I see my best friend.  I see the guy I laugh with.  I see the guy who brings me ibuprofen and water after I puke.  I see.... Ryan .  I just see Ryan.  That what you looking for, Freud?  
  
Chord: Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m looking for. So, Ryno sees the same thing in you, not that you’re ever in any condition to take care of him when he’s drunk. Except he just saw it first. And don’t forget, he didn’t start anything. I’m pretty sure that was you.  
  
Nash:  How long’s he felt like this?  How come I didn’t notice till now?  
  
Chord: I don’t know exactly how long.  And I don’t think it was really a “this” until you hopped on board. I mean, we didn’t talk about it. I just thought I saw something, but until you freaked out yesterday and both of you called me, I kind of figured it would just go on with the two of you flirting on stage and cracking jokes about being married. So, if shit finally got real, there’s probably a reason.  
  
Nash:  Yeah, it’s not a joke anymore.  *checks his phone again*  Fuck.  Yeah.  Just, I’ll come clean if he gets here.  Not sure what I’m gonna say, but I’ll figure it out.  Always do.  
  
Chord: Okay, and I’m here if you need me, but I don’t think anyone can really help you figure this out but you. And Ryan. Just don’t think you have to, like, declare anything. But it might help to tell him how you’re feeling, so he  knows he’s not alone in this, and that you didn’t skip town to get away from him in a bad way. And if  you repeat this, I’ll kick  your  ass, but you are worthy of Ryan Follese. Fuck if I know what he’s looking at, but you  are an Overstreet. Man up.  
  
Nash:  *breathes in again*  Fine.  But if the fucker breaks my heart, I’m comin’ after you.  Deal?  
  
Chord: Deal. I have full faith in Follese. You, on the other hand...  
  
Nash:  Fuck off.  *his voice is fond and he’s smiling for the first time in hours*  Kiss that girl of yours for me.  And I’ll hug your fucking dog....some more.    
  
Chord: Just make sure you give some of that lovin’ to Ry when he gets there. No hugging the dog when your boyfriend’s in the room, okay?  
  
Nash:  Go to bed, assfuck.  I’ll call tomorrow.  *pauses for a minute*  Thanks, Chordy.    
  
Chord: No problem. Now get your head outta your ass and work that killer Overstreet charm.  
  
Nash:  Boxers on or off?  What do you think?  
  
Chord: God,  on . You don’t want to scare him away with your tiny dick.  
  
Nash:  This sucks.  I can’t even say a Your MOM joke right now.  Fine, fine, tiny dick or whatevs.  I’m bailing.  Wait, what’s Amber wearing?  That red night shirt thing?  
  
Chord: She’s got my shirt on right now. Why, you wanna borrow the red one?  
  
Nash:  Naw, mental picture of her running around in nothing but an Overstreet tee is enough for me to have sweet dreams. *chuckles*  Okay, fuck, I’m done.  Later.  
  
Chord: That’s okay. Just remember, I know everything Ryan said about you yesterday. You know, for future reference. And, Nash? It’s just Ryan. I mean, I know. I  know . Everything’s different, but you’re still you and he’s still Ryan.  
  
Nash:  Got it.  Just Ry.  Got it.  Night, dude.    
  
Chord: G’night, big brother. Go get ‘im. *figures Nash can hear his grin from there*  
  
Nash:  Will do.  *punches the button on his phone to end the call*  
  
*checks messages....again*  
  
*blows out a breath and waits*  
  
  
***  
  
 _And when you're needing your space  
To do some navigating  
I'll be here patiently waiting  
To see what you find_  
  
Ryan wakes up feeling the sun on the side of his face pouring in from the window. He’s somehow turned over onto his stomach in the night, with his face pressed into one of the pillows. He raises up on his elbows and rolls over into where Nash should be. But that side of the bed is empty. Not thinking clearly, he pushes his arm out into the space next to him, as if he’ll suddenly feel an invisible Nash there.  
  
“Nash?” He calls toward the bathroom. Nothing.  
  
Pushing himself to his knees in the bed, he calls louder. Still nothing.  
  
He had slept in last night’s clothes, so he pads over to his suitcase in the entry way and exchanges yesterday’s shirt for another. Nash is probably getting breakfast.  
  
Going into the bathroom, he unwraps a hotel toothbrush and uses Nash’s toothpaste. Or Ian’s. He knows it’s not Jamie’s cuz Jamie uses the sparkly kid stuff.  Ryan never remembers to bring toothpaste. In the mirror he can see his hair is all over the fucking place, and he’s got pillow creases on his cheek. Dragging a hand through his hair, he heads back out and grabs his phone from the couch where he’d left it last night to see if he has any messages. Nothing.  
  
“Guys?”  
  
Ian and Jamie must’ve gone out, too. Maybe they all went to get coffee and had tried to wake him?  
  
His thoughts keep going back to last night. Nash  not dropping the whole thing,  not laughing at Ryan at all.  
  
Nash’s hands on Ryan’s face, Ryan running his own hands over Nash’s back in a way he’d never dared to even think about before.  
  
And Nash’s mouth. Oh, his mouth. The songs Ryan could write about Nash’s mouth.  
  
Sitting down in a chair, he picks up his guitar. Head down, he just starts picking out a tune, running into the next without stopping. One moment it’s one of their songs from the tour setlist, and then maybe a song he’s been working on alone or with Nash, or a song he’d learned to play guitar on, or one of his dad’s old country songs.

  
  
  
Ever since he could remember, this is what’s always calmed him. The music.  
  
He sits there for at least thirty minutes before James and Ee roll in. He barely registers he’s disappointed Nash isn’t with them. His hands keep playing.  
  
Jamie stops in the doorway, looking at his brother.  
  
“I thought you weren’t here. Nash’s truck is gone.”   
  
“I thought he was with you guys.” Ryan leans over his guitar, not ready to think about Nash maybe taking off without telling anyone. Without telling  him .  
  
Ian heads down the hall and hollers back, “there’s a note in the bathroom!”  
  
How had he missed that?  
  
But Ryan just keeps playing as Ian comes back into the common space and brandishes the neon green post-it with black Sharpie on it, the note only saying that Nash would be back later.  
  
“You don’t know where he went?” Jamie asked.  
  
“Nope.” Ryan closes his eyes as Jamie and Ian start messing around with the video games, and keeps playing. This is something he’s been composing in his head the past couple weeks, whenever it’s quiet. He hasn’t even told Nash about it yet.  
  
While he plays, he remembers how when they’d gone to bed last night, they had settled in together and ended up spooning. Just like they always do when they nap or crash after a show, when it’s normal and there aren’t confusing feelings or Nash talking about things Ryan wasn’t really sure he was ready to talk about when he was so used to thinking them to himself, and Nash looking at Ryan like he’s brand new.  
  
Once, he half-woke up and he was wrapped around Nash’s back, just breathing in, and really wanting to kiss the back of Nash’s neck. There were so many places he hadn’t kissed, hadn’t touched yet. Instead he’d turned over, and Nash must have sensed it, because in his sleep he turned too, settling in against Ryan again, so warm against Ryan’s back. Ryan had reached and dragged Nash’s arm over, and went back to sleep, thinking about how he needs to take Nash for dinner as soon as humanly possible.  
  
And now he’s playing his guitar like an emo kid in the band’s hotel room while his brother and Ee play PS3 and pretend they’re not concerned about him.  
  
Ryan keeps playing, humming to himself. Trying to think about their next show, or that song he’s been writing, or anything other than  where is Nash?  
  
It’s hours later and he’s hungry, and his fingers feel raw, but he’s still playing when Jamie asks, “you gonna check that?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Your phone buzzed. Maybe Nash texted.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Here.”  Ian reaches over, scoops up the phone from the coffee table and tosses it to Ryan.  
  
Ryan catches it and looks at the alert on the screen.  
  
SMS from NASHTY: Am at the farm.  Come out if you want.  P.S. Julie and Paul are gone.  
  
But what Ryan sees is  
  
 _farm...  
  
want...  
  
parents gone ...  
_   
And he feels like he can really breathe for the first time all day.  



End file.
